


Shaking at the Knees

by nobetterlove



Series: Thunderstruck [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Car Accidents, Deaf Character, Deaf Peter Parker, M/M, Minor Character Death, Soulmates, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:53:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nobetterlove/pseuds/nobetterlove
Summary: This is a different take on a soulmate type of verse. People paired together can hear their person's musical adventures, the songs in their head, the ones they're listening to when they're listening to them.It takes Tony 21 years to finally hear a song in his head, then a few years later - the songs suddenly vanish.Or, the one where Peter loses his hearing and confuses the fuck out of Tony Stark for ten years.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Series: Thunderstruck [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1722901
Comments: 13
Kudos: 364





	Shaking at the Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Hey folks! 
> 
> This is the first part of probably a three or four part series! I've been playing with this idea for a while and finally got it together enough to put enough plot down for a couple different stories. I'm really excited by this verse, so I hope you guys enjoy it!

For the longest time, Tony loved music. He can still remember his very first time hearing a vinyl record. The scratch of the record when the needle first dropped always made his ears prickle and tune in. Then, oh man – the instruments would drop, and the lyrics would start – voices like Bob Seger, AC/DC, and Led Zeppelin washed over him and he got a little lost – every single time. After a bad day at school, he could come home and put on his favorite record and just – let go.

Tony wasn’t really the most – normal kid. His above average intelligence alienated him from his peers in a way that was hard for a 10-year-old to understand. The fact that he could repurpose an engine and understand his father’s blueprints wasn’t nearly as impressive to the kids in his class – no matter how proud Tony actually felt about it. When the need to be accelerated in school happened, he figured he’d finally start to fit in a little better – but being the youngest and smartest kid wasn’t much easier.

The hardest difference to swallow, the thing that made him feel the weirdest was the fact that he hated heard from his soulmate, yet. Tony’s mother died pretty early on in his life, so his father didn’t spend much time talking about her or their soulmate connection. Tony always had music playing around him whenever he got the chance – and hadn’t really thought about the lack of background music in his mind. Thunderstruck always seemed to be playing around up there, but he also loved that song and didn’t have a singular problem playing it over and over – no matter what his father said. By the time he turned 13 and some of his classmates were already starting to pair off – the panic set in. Well, not really panic. More like – dread. What could that possibly mean – the fact that he’d never heard a peep from this person that was supposed to be fated for him? The mere thought of being defective, of not being good enough to have that person settled in – slowly invading most avenues in life. Especially the thirst music used to bring about in him.

Graduating from high school before 15 left Tony with a few choices – all of which included working in his dad’s shop. Stark Industries specialized in restoration of vintage cars, each one with custom engines, transmissions, and body work. The further Tony pulled away from others around him, the further he allowed himself to fall down the rabbit hole of being in the garage until the haze of sleep couldn’t be ignored anymore. The better his skills got, the higher the caliber of jobs Tony got access to. His father’s private garages were beautiful, stocked with the best tools, and parts galore. It also came with a silence that the main garage would never be able to manage. Over the next couple of years, he became used to silence, even seeming to flourish in it. When it came time for college, Tony figured exploring mechanical engineering was a must – but also found himself taking interest in ASL – so he pursued both. Staying in New York allowed him to work in his father’s garage while diving headfirst into all things academic.

Then, something crazy happened. A particularly long night turned early morning – one of which Tony found himself slumped against his workspace – he awoke suddenly. The blare of something that sounded like The Wheels on the Bus sounded in his head. His hands slapped to his head, the man wondering if he’d had a bit more whiskey than he meant to the night before – but the top of his mouth didn’t taste like the bottom of his shoe like it normally would.

No, the sudden awakening resounded in his head, he knew the second he blinked himself awake to be coherent. What the fuck was that – he thought, sleep glazed eyes looking around the garage one more time before he sighed deeply and waited for another sound, another sign of life. When he heard the same tune a little later, he let himself smile. For the first time in all of his 21 years, he could finally hear something. He tried hard not to think about the fact that the man (he knew it was a male, he’d checked out enough asses to know) was probably not a man at all, but a young boy – one small enough to still be interested in songs that repeated ‘round’ and ‘round’ like a mantra. A small piece of him couldn’t help but feel a bit of reluctancy at the obvious age gap. On the other hand, he couldn’t stop himself from being excited by the fact that there was at least someone on the other side of the line.

Later that night, Tony fished out his favorite AC/DC record, his fingertips brushing across the cover in a solemn sort of reverie. When the music washed over him this time, after so many years of a heavy silence, Tony felt the magic again. He relaxed into it, the smoothness of the sound something he couldn’t recall missing as desperately as he felt in that moment. Settling into his favorite chair, Tony picked up his feet and let them rest on the wooden coffee table before him. Though he’d never tell, he fell asleep that night humming the soft melody of that silly children’s song.

\----

One of Peter’s earliest memories is the beating of drums. Until he learned how to block it out, Peter would get so distracted by a pretty constant thump. There were words of course, but the boy was too young to recognize most of them. He understood what the thump was, though. Many times, he’d been lulled to sleep by the sound of it – the steady repetition like a lullaby. The first time Peter recognized one of the songs in his head, he’s in kindergarten. His dad always dropped him off, but that day – his mother was home from the hospital early enough to pick him up excitedly when he ran out of his room at her – the two sneaking off together a few minutes earlier than usual to share a customary pancakes and sausage at their friendly neighborhood McDonald’s. Rides with his mother were always considered special, since she worked the night shift and seemed to be the most tired right as Peter was waking up. Not only was his mom one of his favorite people, things with her were so different than they were with his dad. Peter loved them both equally – well, as equally as any five-year-old could – but he cherished the time with his mother more.

The stereo always thumped really loud whenever he was in the car with his mother. She liked different things, including music and entertainment. Growing up in the 70’s must’ve been something, if all the bands and movies she liked had anything to say about it. They’re pulling out of McDonald’s when a recognizable thump is heard. For a second, he thinks about all the different thumping beats he’d heard recently and this one matched – but it seemed like it was surrounding him, instead of playing in his head. The young boy looked around, then smiled – his mother was drumming the familiar beat on the steering wheel in her hands. “This is AC/DC, Pete,” she said around a smile, her eyes glowing in a way that only happened when she looked at Peter. “Thunderstruck is arguably one of their better songs,” his mother managed to get out before she started to sing. Peter felt his breath catch in his throat, the younger boy overcome by the music that surrounded him – that wasn’t in his head – and the depth of happiness on his mother’s face. He now had a connection to the songs and when he heard them in his head later in the evenings, he found himself singing along (all the wrong lyrics, of course) the same way his mother did – comfortably and with a small smile on his face.

The next couple of years, Peter absorbed as much of the music like the stuff he heard in his head as he could. Initially approaching his mother for more songs made him nervous. The young boy hadn’t heard much about soulmates yet, other than the fact that they existed. He didn’t yet understand that most people could hear songs in their head – that you were listening to your other half’s vocal delights. He eventually managed to stutter through an explanation, the now seven-year-old way more invested in the music now that he could hear it in his head and – well, not. After looking at him with confusion for a minute, his mother shook her head and pulled him into her arms. She kept him pressed tightly against her for a couple of moments, the woman enjoying the fact that her son still allowed her to do something like this. Despite him being so young, Peter was so very smart and growing up so damn quickly.

“Oh boy, you’re hearing things already, huh? That, my sweet boy, is your soulmate. Those songs playing in your head are that special person’s favorites – what they’re listening to right now. Here,” she said in a thick voice – her body moving before she could let herself even think. Peter could only hear a fumbling sound for a couple minutes, then his mother came back with a small square thing attached to some headphones. A thick stack of something was in her other hand. When she kneeled back in front of him, Peter could see a couple of wet streaks on her face. “Try these. If he’s a fan of AC/DC, I bet he likes these bands, too. See this,” she asked, pulling the tape out of its case, “you put this where the cassette player opens.” Peter watched avidly as she slipped the tape inside and handed the player to him. “Put those headphones on and it’ll be like you’re right there with them.”

Peter looked at the player for a second before he bolted forward, his little arms wrapping around his mother’s neck tightly. “Thank you, mama,” Peter mumbled, his nose pressed into the fabric of her shirt. “Thank you.”

From that point on, Peter carried the cassette player with him wherever he went. The now well-known lyrics were a comfort that the boy couldn’t even describe. Sometimes, the music was the only thing that got him through the day. School wasn’t the easiest for him – it could be said that he got picked on pretty ruthlessly. Peter liked school and understood what the teacher was talking about way quicker than the rest of the people in his class. No matter the generation, the smart kids always kind of suffered a little bit. It didn’t matter, though – his parents were amazing, he was starting a new Lego build that evening, and his music never left him. For the most part, things weren’t too bad.

Things changed the day Peter forgot his headphones. The entire day, everything seemed to go wrong for Peter. He’d forgotten to study for the pop quiz in his math class, left his lunch on the counter and had to buy from the cafeteria – all on the day he forgot the most important part of his key to comfort. By the time he was waiting in the line to go home with the rest of the third graders, Peter felt drained, sad, and ready to curl up with his cassettes on either of his parents’ laps. Seeing his mom and his dad in the car when it was his turn momentarily changed his mood – Peter felt his face break into a smile when his mom rolled her window down and waved, her happiness contagious.

He climbed into the back of the car without another thought, his smile widening when both his parents greeted him, his father’s hand coming back to squeeze at his knee. It took him a second to get buckled and then they were off – his mom explaining that she switched her shifts and they were going out to celebrate. The promise of Peter’s favorite restaurant had the young boy relaxing into the booster he still needed to sit in – though, he could buckle it himself. The next thing he knew, Peter’s eyes were blinking awake – the sound of a loud crash scaring the crap out of him. He couldn’t remember if he screamed himself, but he can still vividly remember hearing the high pitch of his mother’s voice before things went black for him again.

The next time Peter woke up, his Aunt May and Uncle Ben were by his bedside. He looked around frantically, not understanding why his parents weren’t there, too. He spoke out – and all the sudden realized he didn’t hear himself. His eyes met with May’s when he tried again, the obvious terror in her eyes adding to the panic that was quickly overwhelming him. Small hands moved up to his ears, though they never made it – his Uncle’s hands engulfing them, instead. The panic took him over completely, then. Both of the people around him were crying and he couldn’t hear a single thing. Where were his parents? And why did his head feel like it’d been cracked open? He felt the tears fall down his cheeks, though never heard the whimpers that fell from his lips as the confusing, emotional tsunami wiped him completely out. It took both May and Ben holding on to him to get him to calm down. He clung to them, so confused but needing the comfort that his other favorite people in this world could bring to him.

A while later, May sat down next to him again, this time armed with a pad of paper and a pencil. Peter didn’t understand what was happening, his body hurting and his ears still not hearing anything – it was all so overwhelming. Her soft hand had him looking up, the pad out in front of him. Learning that his parents were dead and that he’d lost his hearing from that stupid notepad seemed like the ultimate ending to what would always be the worst day of his life. He barely survived the accident that took both his parents. When the car rolled, Peter’s booster seat kept him from leaving the seat – but the force smashed his head against the window. The blackout caused by the concussion probably saved his life – if that was any consolation prize.

Two nights later, after being brought to May and Ben’s place, Peter laid in bed, tossing and turning until he finally heard the music in his head. The sadness of the collection of songs matched the situation perfectly and only then was Peter finally able to fall asleep.

\----

Soon after hearing a song for the first time, Tony felt the best he could ever remember feeling. His academic studies were going well, so well in fact that he sailed through his first set of degrees and was taking an internship with a sign language interpreter. When he first brought the concept up to his father, Howard Stark looked at his son with something that he could only describe as confusion. Tony wasn’t shy about his brilliance and excelled substantially in the garage. Howard hadn’t said anything to his son yet, but he’d slowly been handing over big accounts – the youngest Stark basically equipped to take over the business, despite not being aware of that fact. Yet, Tony couldn’t help but smile at the little hint of pride his father hadn’t ever been able to conceal from him, despite his best efforts. The hours for his internship would barely interfere with his duties at the shop, so he got to take the position with his father’s blessing. For the first time in a while, Tony felt happy with himself and the relationship he was slowly cultivating with his father.

Things stayed decent for Tony for a few years. He managed to get enough field experience with sign language interpretation to get some exposure and spent a good majority of his time split between the garage and his interpreter gigs. He enjoyed the ability to get lost in the silence of the garage, then put significance to someone else’s silence through his ability to translate and be a voice. For some reason, Tony felt some unidentifiable need to pursue that path – and wouldn’t be deterred by anyone that didn’t understand his desire. He didn’t really understand it much, either. Most of his adult life, he felt compelled – compelled to do well, compelled to be able to help – hell, compelled to be the best version of himself. Since his change in consciousness happened right around the time he started to hear his music, Tony figured he could contribute at least a bit of his success to the person behind the soothing tunes. Tunes that were surprisingly starting to sound just like the music he played whenever he was by himself. Either the kid had good taste, or Tony taught him right before anything else could taint his musical perspective. Hearing the hum of Old Time Rock & Roll early in the morning wasn’t the worst way to wake up, after all.

Tony got to coast for a while, even enjoy himself a little bit. Most of his twenties were spent in the garage working on his own creations, or out in the community – doing sign language interpretation for big community events, or personal interpretation for the people that needed more of a singular touch. He appreciated both aspects of his work and spent most of his free time trying to find ways to make both worlds meet. By 27, Tony made enough money to build another addition to the Stark garage that would allow him to create, fix, and reinvent engines, parts, and whole vehicles that would slowly start to put him on the tech industry map. With the new addition came the need for new employees – and Tony knew all the best people for the job. He’d been working closely with Happy since their joint internship after graduating from college. The man didn’t know a thing about cars and their parts but could keep Tony running like no one else could. Happy spent a good majority of his life with his hearing, so he kept Tony on his toes both with his big personality and his ability to transition from ASL to speaking without much of a thought. Tony couldn’t imagine running the aspects of his shop without the other man. Bucky and Steve came along a year or so after Tony got his new garage built. They were a little older but gave Tony a run for his money in terms of their engine knowledge and ability to spend hours at a time under a car instead of with other humans. Yeah, things were going well for Tony Stark – so well, in fact, he was impatiently waiting for the other shoe to drop like it did so many other times throughout his life.

That shoe finally came dropping a couple months after his 28th birthday. For all intents and purposes, Tony was already running the Stark Industries garages. He hired a new person to manage payroll when he opened his own garage, took on a cute red headed assistant named Pepper Potts – who could sling business talk and fire all in one sentence. Tony even went as far as to start planning upgrades to the main garages to make more room for their ever-increasing stock of parts and pieces that were needed to do the job the Stark Industries way – with utmost perfection. It shouldn’t have been such a shock to him when the company officially became his.

Yet, Tony found himself drifting about nonetheless. The death of his father that ultimately put the company securely and singularly in his hands hit him much harder than Tony anticipated. The last few years, Tony actually broke through his father’s shell and seemed to even earn some pride from the old man. Before he passed, Howard actually gave Tony a hug – one that he never expected and couldn’t recall often enough. He felt a little guilty that their best days spent together were some of his father’s last – but then again, he wouldn’t change that fact for anything. At least he’d been able to make something of himself before the old man passed and for that – Tony couldn’t help but feel grateful. If he was going to spend the rest of his life as an orphan, at least he knew that someone had been proud of him – even if that someone wasn’t around anymore.

The first few months after his father’s death were rough. Tony wasn’t used to not being able to sequester himself away in his garage and resented the change. The resentment started to seep into his performance and before long, Pepper was pulling him aside – her eyes trying to portray gentleness, regardless of the fact that the situation now called for a little bit of a reality check.

“You look like shit, Tony – and everyone is noticing,” she started, her arms crossing over her chest to assume a more defensive stance. “You’ve got to get your shit together. Or at least pretend.” Tony knew the woman was only trying to help – that Pepper was one of the only people keeping him and the business running. Stark Industries needed him to not only be the genius behind all of the masterful art they created with cars, but the face of the company as well.

He wanted the silence back – even if just for a minute. The silence always left him to his will, never interrupted or expected. He could be himself with the silence. That didn’t matter, though. His father’s legacy demanded his attention and Tony Stark would never not rise to a challenge presented his way. “You’re right, Pep. Sorry, babe,” he replied with a painted-on smirk, the corner of his lips coming nowhere close to his eyes. “I’ll be better. Pinky swear.”

Then – things got a little worse. After attempting to get his shit together, Tony finally had things figured out enough to delegate tasks, attend meetings, and still spend most of his time in the garage. Between Happy and Pep, Tony got all the things he needed and could still claim to be running a successful business. Tony still craved the silence – the beauty of being by himself and the simplicity of the times when he didn’t have to answer to anyone. It wasn’t coming back, he reminded himself – he worked his ass off to get to this level of success. Yet, he couldn’t help but yearn.

And then – the silence came back.

Not the silence of a private garage like he wanted. Not the silence of getting to spend forty-eight hours up to his elbows in engine grease. No, the silence that haunted him as a child – the absence of sound in the back of his mind – that returned with a vengeance. One day, he was jamming along to Stairway to Heaven in the back of his mind and the next – the next, it was all gone. This time, the sound felt like an input cable had been torn from the player – the absence of sound so deafening – so final. Tony couldn’t understand it. There’d been so much life on the other end not even twelve hours before the total silence. He could even feel the joy radiating on the other end – though, Tony didn’t know if that was real or his own personal projection of feeling. Now, there was nothing. That sent a bone-tingling chill across the surface of Tony’s skin.

He still didn’t know much about this soulmate connection of his – he’d never really understood it. Yet, he knew enough to know that having sound, then losing sound – well, that couldn’t be a good thing. Tony couldn’t imagine the possibilities, couldn’t understand the implications of something like this. He just lost his father – now he had to deal with losing this person, too? Not only did he not know what happened to the poor kid, he didn’t have the distraction of his sounds, either. The classic rock and small amounts of current pop was one of the things Tony always looked forward to relaxing into. He got through meetings thinking about what song would pop up next, or what mood his person would be in depending on the type of sound coming down the connection. Without it, what the hell was he supposed to do? The thought of going back to how things were before he heard the fucking wheels on the bus – he couldn’t fucking stand it.

A couple days later, when nothing came back across the connection, Tony finally let himself wallow. His favorite whiskey, which he usually savored for all that it was, remained clenched in his fist throughout the first couple hours of his self-pity. Tears fell as he pulled from the bottle, each tug sending a warmth through him he never really thought he’d be able to feel again. Little by little, he let the tears fall and all of the terrible feelings get lost in the bottle that was frankly starting to get a little too empty for Tony’s taste. The drunker he got; the more Tony felt his heart break at the absence of sound in his head – so he tried to make up for it.

All of his favorite records were lined up behind his vinyl player, Tony indulging in them whenever he got the chance. Instead of pulling AC/DC towards him, Tony flipped through the rest of his collection until he found the perfect mood music. The sound of Ann Peebles and I Can’t Stand the Rain washed over the room and Tony felt himself sigh. The sound was reassuring, even if it didn’t resonate from the back of his mind like it usually did – he let himself drown in it, get lost in the lyrics and the soothing sound of Ann’s voice while she sang about sweet memories and sounds she can’t stand. The perfect harmony to the misery that Tony couldn’t and wouldn’t pull himself out of for a long time.

\----

The first year or so after losing his hearing, Peter struggled. At first, the death of his parents overwhelmed him. Aunt May and Uncle Ben were great – they truly were. They were so supportive and without them, he wouldn’t have survived. The custody ruling went pretty smoothly since May and Ben were already named his guardians, anyway. Though he’d been staying with them since after the accident, Peter officially moved into a room when it became apparent that their place was now his place – that home wasn’t the two-story with a pool he’d shared with his parents anymore. May and Ben lived in an apartment in Queens – the place very small but roomy enough to not make it feel like they were living on top of each other.

Little by little, Peter found a way to make himself comfortable in the little bubble of the room they put together for him. Sure, they’d decorated in a similar nature to his room back home and he appreciated that. He found comfort in the small picture of him and his parents that sat right next to his bed so he could look at it when he jumped awake panicked after a crazy nightmare that ended with the same crash and scream every single time. They were trying to make their place a home for him and he loved them for it – but there were things missing and his little heart couldn’t put forth anymore energy to pretend, even if that meant making his aunt and uncle feel just a little bit better with the situation. The only thing that provided him real comfort, even if he couldn’t actually hear the music, was the cassette player his mom gave him what felt like so long ago.

The transition from being a completely hearing child to not being able to hear and communicate brought Peter way down. May and Ben allowed him a couple of weeks to heal before they started to demand things from him. First, it was appointments with a hearing specialist. Then, when they found out his hearing was not only gone, but gone for good, Peter went for ASL lessons on a daily basis. Because he wasn’t in any shape to actually attend a public school, Ben took to teaching things to Peter. It wasn’t well known that Ben was one of the smarter people in the world. The mediocre job Ben held at Stark Industries didn’t do justice to the amount of talent and initiative the man possessed – but he enjoyed getting to spend time with his wife and Peter, so he settled.

Peter found himself slightly surprised by the fact that his uncle was that damn intelligent, the small boy not really paying attention to things like that before the accident. Now, though – Peter never felt more grateful for his uncle’s hidden talents. The man was intelligent in all ways, too. Whether it was book knowledge, or hands on knowledge, Ben had an example and explanation for everything. Once the bridge of learning how to communicate was crossed, Peter found himself slowly starting to recover – in all the ways a small child of trauma needed to. He mastered ASL a lot quicker than anyone suspected, much to the relief of both May and Ben – and when they figured he was ready, Peter was enrolled in Midtown School for the Deaf.

Slowly, Peter started to make his way back towards the happy kid he’d been for such a long time. At the ripe age of 12, Peter started to work in the garage with his uncle. Their daily lessons didn’t stop after he started attending his new school, either. In fact, Peter would bring home loads of interesting topics that they would delve further into. They would talk with rapid fire hand movements, Peter working on his signing and learning more about all the things that he thought were so very interesting. They would pass tools back and forth silently, Peter becoming more and more familiar with the parts and pieces the longer they spent in the garage together. Ben took to having Peter around as a son the same way May took to protecting the boy. Between the two of them, Peter knew everything he needed to and then some. He worked on his lip reading with May while they watched Gilmore Girls with the closed captioning – and learned lots of things about soulmates and love and happy endings from her, too.

In the days after his recovery, Peter worried he wouldn’t be able to hear the songs anymore, simply because he couldn’t hear at all. The days passed, though – and not much happened. The songs would occasionally get very somber and emotional, but Peter appreciated them all the same. The company those songs provided was something the boy desperately needed and couldn’t see getting from anyone else. May and Ben were so good to him, so involved in all the parts in his life that needed to change drastically – but they didn’t quite know. There wasn’t a way to describe what losing his hearing was like. There probably weren’t enough words to get across the intensity of the loss. The music, though – even if he didn’t know who was on the other side of the line, the music made it seem like things were normal. Hearing those songs, even as randomly as they’d appear, they made Peter feel like he could hear again.

So, Peter clung to all of the things that were familiar to him. His daily garage hangouts with Uncle Ben had him working his way around all the parts and pieces of their ’65 Mustang so easily. He felt so familiar with it, Peter figured he could put the engine back together with his eyes closed. That passion only seemed to grow the longer he spent learning his way around and getting his hands dirty. Ben, in his never-ending quest to teach Peter everything he possibly could, started to take him to the Stark Industries garages. He didn’t work the grandest of jobs there, but the garage he could access had plenty of tools and spare parts – all a little different than the ones they’d been using in the garage. Like a fly to honey, Peter absorbed as much as he could about everything thrown his way.

His fingers knew their way around a manual transmission, the young boy able to change it out in a way that was both quick and efficient. The job didn’t take much communication with others and allowed Peter to get lost in what he was doing – lost in the knowledge of how the parts worked by themselves and how to put them together to make the most out of their functions as a whole. Peter understood so much about the different types of engines and was even able to make corrections that made the part work a little better. A part of Peter hoped that Mr. Stark would see him and realize that he was worth offering an internship position to. Ben mentioned it every time they walked into the garage, so many times in fact – Peter felt a bit of hope bloom in his chest. In all the time Peter got to hang around in the Stark garages, he’d never seen the illustrious man.

To fill the void between trips to Stark Industry, Peter made friends with one of the workers at the junk yard not too far from his home. For whatever reason, Ned took him under his wing and let him peruse the huge piles of car parts that were always sitting around. Peter would muddle through conversations with him as he cleaned the parts off to put them in his backpack to take home. After a while, Peter stopped by the yard not only to grab the parts, but work on them there, too. It seemed like, for the first time in probably his entire life, Peter Parker made a friend. A guy that wasn’t much older than him that was slowly learning his way through sign language and dreaming of being a computer genius – a guy that didn’t judge Peter for something he couldn’t really help. Peter appreciated the guy and wasn’t afraid to crack a joke or tell him about things he never thought to tell anyone else. Slowly but surely, Peter was growing into himself – something he didn’t think would happen so easily or without him really noticing.

By the time he turned 16, Peter was finally finished with his completely rebuilt car and ready to actually be able to drive it. Ben let him drive all the time after they finished up at SI’s garage or home from school when Peter knew he wouldn’t be able to make the bus on time. Yet, he hadn’t been able to drive his own car yet – Ben insisting the first time should be when he officially had his license in his back pocket. When the day finally came around, Peter started up the Charger, his eyes closing as he sat in the seat, the vibrations running through his chest making his heart pound. The only time he got this type of feeling, classic rock songs were floating in the back of his subconsciousness. He let the engine run for a while longer, the purring vibration an addicting feeling now that he’d gotten used to it. It didn’t hurt that he’d managed to create that vibration – that every single piece of the car he compiled together with his own two hands – from rusty frame to the freshly painted outer body. Opening his eyes after a few minutes, Peter glanced at the clock and put the car in reverse – he’d need to go a little faster on the highway to get to the garage before his Uncle Ben got off work (which, he couldn’t honestly complain about, if he were being honest). With a rumble, Peter put the car in gear and started towards Stark Industries.

What happened next would forever be something that changed his life – Peter not really understanding the entire extent of it until much, much later.

Upon pulling up to the garage, Peter beamed when all of Ben’s coworkers walked out to check out the car. He parked quickly, then hopped out to pop the hood – his smile growing at the thought of showing off all his hard work. The customized engine allowed for better gas mileage and the configured transmission changed gears so fluidly that its lifespan was a few years longer than a normal transmission. He felt pride in his craftmanship as the men took in all the work, some of them not even understanding what the heck he was saying and signing as Peter explained all the different things he did putting the car together.

His uncle patted him on the shoulder a little while into his explanation, the man’s smile almost as big as Peter’s own. The squeeze that came next told him his uncle was proud, and the punch to his opposite shoulder told him Ben was so excited to see all the work he did for himself, too. Peter smiled at the man, then went back to watching all of the people he’d grown up around ‘oh’ and ‘ah’ at the work he did – at the machine he put together and all the things he managed to accomplish while doing it.

All of a sudden, people stopped what they were doing and turned to look in the direction behind Peter – even Ben seemed to stand at attention. Slowly, Peter turned around and smiled – his obvious naivety not recognizing the man standing in front of him. No one said anything, Peter could tell through the close eye he kept on the people around him. A little bit confused, Peter shifted until he could see Ben, his hands moving quickly to ask what the heck was going on. His uncle didn’t reply, his eyes bulging a little further in response instead. He followed the path of Ben’s eyes until once again, they were staring in the direction of the man now standing a little bit closer to Peter than just moments before.

Peter finally turned his full attention to the man behind him – the older guy so shockingly handsome, it was a little bit distracting. His goatee was neatly trimmed, the hair on his head a dark brown – the locks a little on the longer side and done in a way that made it look like the perfect sort of roll out of bed messy. His dark eyes were looking directly at Peter and it took him a moment to realize that the man was moving his hands – the signs flowing seamlessly from him – as if ASL was as natural to him as it was to Peter. Dumbfounded, Peter smiled and signed back “You took me by surprise. I didn’t see what you said, can you repeat it?”

He felt his smile grow when the other man nodded, the fingers of his right dropping to tap on his own chest – gesturing to himself. “I’m Tony Stark – they all probably stopped because I haven’t been in this garage in years. It’s nice to meet you.” Tony’s lips moved at the same pace as his hands, the man obviously familiar with both ASL and spoken language. When he was through signing, Tony held out a hand between them – a smirk on his lips. Peter took it quickly – the spark zinging between them making his heart race in a way that he didn’t quite understand.

He clenched his hand for a second, the pulse in his palm so fucking distracting. “I’m Peter – and holy shit – you’re Tony Stark. I love this garage, Sir. You have the best equipment,” Peter signed back, his voice already overworked from all the talking he’d done earlier. A part of him wanted to see how good Tony’s signing was, too – but no one needed to know that.

The older man smiled, a hand going to cover his heart in a gesture of thanks. “Thanks, kid – you haven’t even seen some of the coolest stuff.” He stopped then pointing over Peter’s shoulder. “That looks like someone rebuilt that from the ground up. Was that you?” Tony signed excitedly, a weird look of excitement and passion flashing across the older man’s eyes. The look was intoxicating, drawing Peter in without a second thought. This guy looked like he was about to drool over the work that he’d done – what kind of dream was he in right now? This opportunity probably wouldn’t come around again, so he jumped on the chance.

Peter moved to stand by the hood – his hands moving quickly as he too started to excitedly describe the modifications he made and the process he used to put the engine back together. He almost forgot that many people were around them watching this exchange – watching, for the first time in most of their careers, Tony Stark use sign language to have an over-excited conversation – probably the first time they’d genuinely seen Tony Stark in the flesh, honestly. The same squeeze of his uncle’s hand brought Peter back from his ramble – a blush slipping over his cheeks the instant he realized he’d gone off – the exhilaration of it all something so overwhelming, he didn’t really understand it. “Sorry,” he signed, his shoulders shrugging as he did. “I got a little carried away. It’s pretty cool, though, right?”

The exchange didn’t last much longer after that. Tony complimented his craftmanship, shook his hand again, then shot him a smirk before turning away and catching up with the guy Peter knew to be Happy standing over by the front door. The entire drive home, Peter caught himself smiling at the memory of the interaction and the reverberation of the song playing in the back of his mind over and over again. The person on the other side of the line must’ve been pretty happy if the repeat of Faithfully had anything to say about it.

Later that night, while listening to the song in the back of his mind, Peter let himself get lost in the music, then right before he fell asleep – he finally let himself think about Tony. The smirk on the older man’s face burned into his memory.

\---- 

To say that Tony felt a little off his game the first time he interacted with Peter Parker would’ve been a total understatement. When Happy told him a crowd was gathered around a good looking car, Tony couldn’t help himself. There weren’t a lot of cars many of the people around the garage hadn’t seen, so something that brought about such a reaction had to be worth his time. Especially since they worked with luxury cars on a daily basis – this vehicle had to be interesting, maybe interesting enough to give Tony something to be excited over. Striding out of the building after a silent conversation with Happy, Tony took the walk through a couple different garages to get to the front of the building. He watched from the window of the waiting room for a couple minutes, looking around until he found the guy in the middle of the commotion.

Or, he supposed he should call the guy a kid – the young person no older than 16 or 17 at the maximum. His eyes beamed with a brightness Tony couldn’t recall ever seeing, and his smile took up his entire face. Round cheeks were stained with a red that probably painted them whenever the kid was happy, or sad, or embarrassed – and for a second, he wondered how far down the color actually went. Shaking his head of the stupidly inappropriate thought, Tony finally pushed his way out of the building. It was only when he got a little closer that he recognized the kid’s movements, his fingers forming signs flawlessly, perfect red lips were moving, but not often making complete sounds – like his lips moving was secondary to the fluid nature of his hands. That sight made his gut clench, a soft smile pulling across his lips before he could will it away. For whatever reason, he instantly felt a connection to the kid.

It didn’t take long for everyone gathered around the admittedly impressive car to turn and look at him, his entry into the space not nearly as smooth as he hoped it might be. Funnily enough, the kid was the last one to turn around, the same shy smile on his lips still firmly there, cheeks still cherry red with whatever emotion that seemed to be coursing through him. Tony watched with interest as the kid turned towards someone, his hands rapid fire signing – the man he was talking to obviously comfortable with this sort of exchange. When it was obvious there wasn’t going to be an answer, Tony couldn’t help the smile that slipped across his own face when the kid turned back his way – a curious look in his eye. Deciding at that moment to take this into his own hands, Tony started to sign, the words coming out of his mouth at the same rate he could make his body move through the signs.

The look on the kid’s – Peter’s – face made his heart pound for a moment, the obvious surprise something that shouldn’t look as cute as it did. The closer he got to the other, the more of the car he could see and man – it was fucking impressive! The engine rebuild look flawless and he could already see the function of some of the obvious additions to the transmission. The kid had talent – an eye for this sort of thing, even. Something told him Peter did all of the work for himself, too. The kid obviously smart, obviously passionate about this sort of thing – his eyes on fire the entire time he talked about it. The whole thing was intoxicating to Tony, totally overwhelming in a way that Tony didn’t think he’d ever experienced. In all of his 37 years of life, he’d never felt a spark of connection the way he did with Peter – whatever the hell that meant.

After a quick exit and promise to himself to learn more about the kid, Tony got behind the wheel of his Audi – the itch to listen to music heavy the second he got into the seat. Happy shot him an odd look for a second, then smiled with a shrug – Tony listening to music was a rare and magic thing these days, so who the fuck was he to ruin it? Instead of saying anything, Happy let Tony fuck around with his phone – Tony’s fingers flying over the keys in search of one of his all-time favorite songs. Faithfully started over the speaker system and for the first time in a really long time, Tony let it wash over him.

Since losing the song in his head, music didn’t hold the same place in his heart the way it used to. He couldn’t get through his time in the garage without it – the company of AC/DC something he’d gotten too used to over the years. Yet, he hadn’t let himself connect with anything since Ann Peebles soothed him to sleep almost ten years ago. It didn’t feel right, enjoying something the way he once did – feeling any sort of connection with sound when the person on the other side of his connection didn’t or couldn’t anymore. The resonating feeling Tony felt after his interaction with Peter, though – that felt like something to celebrate with some of his favorite tunes. He didn’t think too hard on that fact, simply allowed it to happen.

Getting back to the garage a few hours later, Tony went right to the computer and started to do some research. Finding Peter’s connection to SI wasn’t very hard – a simple search of his last name pulled up the name Ben Parker. He’d been working in the same garage for the past ten years and seemed to be pretty efficient in his work – and very invested in Peter – if the visitors log had anything to say about that. One Peter Parker started visiting the garage a whopping four years ago and Tony never even noticed. Of course, he didn’t spend much time thinking about anything other than his own work and the stupid schedule Pep put together for him. It seemed that the narrow focus he liked to have kept him from discovering this kid’s talent a lot earlier.

A few runs through some of the recent security footage showed an incredibly talented Peter Parker doing a lot of the work under the hood or on the bench with one of the parts – taking it apart, then putting it seamlessly back together with hands of an expert, not those of a 16-year-old boy. In that instant, Tony knew he needed to do something for this kid – especially if his talent was to truly be believed. He could use someone with a mind not far from his own to help around the garage – to work with some of the more delicate parts that Tony wouldn’t trust to just anyone. With that decided, Tony made a few phone calls, getting the clearance from Pepper before calling the Parker residence to extend an internship to Peter Parker with his very own garage manager Steve Rogers.

Over the years, Tony taught most of the people on his staff at least a few signs so they could talk easily with Happy – and hoped he’d done enough to make Peter feel safe in the family that he created over the years of misfit mechanics and weirdos like himself. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, Tony felt compelled to take care of Peter Parker. Maybe it was the kid’s brilliance, or maybe it was the obvious talent that radiated off of him – whatever it was, Tony knew Peter was going to be special. If he could have a part in that, well – there wasn’t much anyone could do to stop him.

\----

The next time Peter went into Stark Industries, he picked up his very own employee badge. Though he’d been in the garage for years, he never thought he’d get the opportunity to actually work in THE GARAGE. He hoped, silently, that someone would see his potential and scoop it up. In his wildest dreams, he never truly thought it’d be Tony Stark. His first day in the garage turned into the ultimate adventure. Being in the garage his uncle worked in, Peter saw lots of cool stuff. Walking into Tony’s garage, that was like walking into a completely different world. There were lifts he’d never seen before and a 3D printer in the corner that probably did a lot of their mockups. The tools were shiny and the sheer quantity of them made his mouth water.

Peter spent time in a junk yard and still hadn’t seen that many things at his disposal. Getting the hang of communicating with Mr. Rogers was a little frustrating – the man going back and forth between talking to loud at him and muddling through signs – but at the end of the day, Peter knew his way around under the hood and didn’t need much direction. With all of these parts and pieces at his fingertips, Peter couldn’t wait to explore and experiment. The transmission in his own vehicle ran so much better than what they put into Uncle Ben’s and if he could adjust it to be universal, well – he could probably save people a lot of money.

Peter settled into his position pretty easily – his ability to work hard and think quick on his feet a cherished thing around the garage. Steve, or Cap, as people so fondly liked to call him, found a way to bridge the communication gap and became one of Peter’s biggest fans. While Cap had an abundance of hands-on experience, Peter had a mind made for solving puzzles and making pieces fit together in the best possible way. During their first engine rebuild, Steve didn’t have the right pieces, and instead of putting the job on pause – Peter hand crafted the piece himself, a smile on his face the entire time he puzzled together the singular pieces into the perfect part. In the matter of a couple hours, Peter won Cap over – and immediately had a great ally on his side. The hands-on things Peter didn’t know or understand, Cap taught him in the best way that he could. Like his Uncle Ben, Peter understood the other man in a way that not a lot of people did. It seemed to Peter that Bucky and Mr. Stark were the only ones that could really crack the older man’s shell. Now, he got to count himself a part of that illustrious group, too.

Working in the garage not only gave him access to the best materials, but the best mind in the car business, too. Tony didn’t spend a lot of time in Peter’s part of the garage – when he did, though, he worked closely with him. Tony always seemed to have a new project for the two of them to work on together, the older man so encouraging in the way he gave advice or taught something that not even Cap really understood or knew how to do. Peter found himself drawn to the older man in lots of ways, many that were probably too inappropriate to really think about – yet, he couldn’t help himself. For the first time in his life, Peter felt a sort of comfortability with another person that he couldn’t even claim to have with Ben or May.

Tony’s grasp on ASL and inherent need to be helpful let Peter talk about whatever he wanted and ask all the questions his mind could come up with. His time spent with Tony taught him so much about his passion, the man’s knowledge of cars and the garage environment really was valuable, but his view on life and thoughts about whatever stupid shit came to his head were also so important to Peter. The boy felt like himself around the man and craved the connection between them whenever they weren’t together. He thought for a while that hero worship played a part in the way he felt. Peter did look up to the man for most of his life, after all. Yet, when he thought about the particular feeling that he hadn’t been able to chase away, it didn’t start until Tony started to open up to him – until the older man truly attempted to get to know Peter a little more.

The day of Peter’s 18th birthday stood out in his memory as THE turning point in their relationship. They were working on a new engine design, both gathered around the big computer in Tony’s home lab. They’d been meeting at Tony’s place for a while by then. The first time happened by accident. Elbow deep in grease, Steve suddenly remembered that he left an important receipt for one of the parts on Tony’s counter earlier that day and didn’t have time to get it – so Peter was sent on the errand. The property Tony built his house on felt so grand, Peter pulled into a driveway that reminded him of those fancy roundabouts in front of castles.

Yet, it was delicately understated all at the same time. There weren’t huge marble statues or ostentatious lawn ornaments – simply a huge house flanked by a garage that could probably rival what they worked in back at SI. He looked at it with awe for a couple minutes before he decided to break his solitude. He took one more deep breath and enjoyed the vibration of the engine beneath him for another second, then turned the car off. It didn’t surprise Peter a single bit when he spotted Tony leaned against the doorframe of his front door, arms crossed in what he now knew to be what the older man considered to be his most relaxed pose. A soft smile pulled at the other man’s lips, the depth of the smile pulling the cute little lines at the corner of Tony’s eyes to the forefront. Peter returned the look without thought, his hand raising in greeting.

Peter forced himself to take another deep breath – the roaring crush he had on the older man decided to peak its head out at the worst possible times. He thought he’d gotten the damn thing under control – but who the fuck was he kidding? A simple smile from the older man made his heart beat hard against his chest, the heat gathering from the force of it dripping into his stomach until he could hardly bare it – his focus completely shot the second he let the feeling overwhelm him. Standing in the man’s driveway was not the place to feel the steady thrum of familiar heat – so he quickly took the stairs to the front door. Tony placed a hand on the small of his back and suddenly the heat took off on its own – fire overtaking every inch of him. After that visit, Tony’s place became a little bit of a sanctuary for Peter, a place he could not only enjoy his time with Tony – but also a place he could give himself just the slightest bit of hope.

The invite to Tony’s place on his birthday didn’t surprise him – the man hosted parties for all his close friends and coworkers at the gorgeous house all the time. The fact that they snuck away from all the people gathered to head to the garage wasn’t all that off the charts, either. Peter spent as much, if not more time in the garage than Tony did – and when they were together, the time seemed to slip away – like nothing else existed but him, Tony, and whatever part they were working on. This time wasn’t any different, either. They were finally able to get his transmission modification generalized and the hope of all three of the cars they’d been working on performing was the final leg to their research. When all three of them struck and managed to switch gears simultaneously, Peter pumped both fists in the air – his excitement crackling in the air around him.

He felt Tony wrap an arm around him and tap his shoulder three times – their little silent signal of praise. Despite Tony being able to communicate with him perfectly, Tony still seemed to prefer silence in the garage – especially when Peter was around. They would sign here and there, but there wasn’t a lot of exchange throughout their time together – a thought that at first freaked Peter out, then after some thought fit him just fine. All his life, people expected him to find a way to receive things from them and return the signal their way. Tony didn’t pressure and respected whatever mode of communication Peter felt willing to give and in return, the younger man did the same. The touch lingered for another couple of seconds before Tony pulled away and started walking across the garage. The man had a huge smile on his face when he turned to face Peter again, his hands moving for the first time in a while

“This seems like the perfect time for some of the classics,” Tony signed, his hands moving restlessly as he then walked over to a glass cabinet Peter never really paid attention to. With the door open, Peter could see the collection of what he knew to be vinyl – his uncle’s own collection pretty impressive, especially if you asked the man himself. Peter hadn’t ‘listened’ to music since he lost his hearing – but he could remember the sound of all his soulmate’s favorites – the songs way more consistent now than they’d ever been. He wandered over towards the older man, his eyes wide when he saw the cover art for his favorite AC/DC album.

“I haven’t heard this album since I lost my hearing,” Peter found himself signing, the boy not mentioning the fact that hearing in his head and hearing with his ears were too totally different things. “I love their stuff. Really miss it, actually.” Peter smiled with his last sign, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

Tony didn’t miss a beat – the next second, Peter found his hand being pressed against the speaker. The point of contact between them felt so warm – that all too familiar zing between them settling itself on the surface of Peter’s skin. For a second, he didn’t even think to look towards Tony, Peter’s eyes drooping instead so he could take in the way it felt – to be touched by the very person he craved so badly. When he eventually looked up, Tony was watching him closely, the older man’s gaze a mixture of things Peter didn’t really know how to name. He kept his hand there a second longer, then Tony pulled back and started to sign

“Close your eyes and feel the beat. It’s like when you sit down in the car and start it up for the first time – that vibration. Get lost in that heavy thump – I bet it’s almost like hearing it again.” When Tony finished, Peter nodded and closed his eyes. He could immediately feel the vibration Tony was talking about and let the feeling of it pass through his chest. The steady beat changed, picking up a little the closer the song got to the chorus. All of the sudden – Peter could hear the tell-tale sound of Thunderstruck in the back of his head – a soft smile already pulling across his lips, this was one of his soulmate’s favorites.

Then, like he was back in his mom’s car all those years ago, Peter felt the song surround him, only this time – it was in his head and below his hand, the drum beat of the song unmistakable now that he was really focusing. What the actual fuck – Peter thought to himself, his eyes flashing open. Quickly, he pushed against Tony’s shoulder – the man halfway through an air guitar riff – the touch eventually getting his attention. “What song are we listening to, Tony?” Peter signed, his sign for Tony emphasized. Tony tilted his head, his eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“Thunderstruck, Pete. One of my all-time favorites,” Tony signed back, his eyes closing again as the powerful ending to the song crept closer.

It took Peter the rest of the song to put the whole thing together. After a considerably long time in the garage together, a delirious Tony told Peter that he couldn’t hear his soulmate anymore. The information came out of the blue – though Peter learned over his time spent with the man that many things were fighting for dominance in the man’s head and he didn’t always have control of what came out. While he told the story, Peter felt his heart breaking ever so slightly – a part of him hoping that maybe – well, that didn’t matter. Watching the person he’d come to love more than anyone in the world break down over something so gut wrenching was absolutely terrible. The man told him how long he waited to hear from that person at the beginning of life, then Peter listened while Tony told him how long ten years felt without the songs he’d come to really count on. The worst part was the sudden nature of it, or so Tony said, anyway. He didn’t know what happened to his person, but he felt a loneliness that most people probably couldn’t understand. Peter couldn’t say anything, so he didn’t – he simply wrapped the man in his arms and pulled him close. If nothing else, Peter understood the silence – the overwhelming need to hear something – anything again.

The suddenness of realizing that Tony stopped hearing his soulmate because his soulmate lost their hearing kept him motionless – the boy still long enough for Tony to look at him weirdly, the older man’s hand coming out to shake his shoulder slightly, even.

“You alright, Pete?” Tony said, both his hands and mouth moving this time around – worry evident in his facial expression.

Peter nodded, but still felt a little overwhelmed – this realization huge and still entirely too one-sided. “Tony, when did you stop hearing from your soulmate?” Peter signed frantically – his fingers moving fast enough for the signs to seemingly blur together.

Tony’s face dropped slightly, his shoulders slumping just from mentioning the situation. It looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then his raised his hands and signed “ten years.” The look on his face made Peter’s stomach clench despite what Peter now knew.

“My soulmates favorite song is Thunderstruck. I’ve been listening to it since I was a child, Tony. That drumbeat – I’ve been listening to it in my head since I can remember,” Peter spoke this time, his voice a little rusty from a lack of use. “I lost my hearing ten years ago. Fuck – Tony, you didn’t lose your soulmate. I – I… just haven’t been able to listen to music – I haven’t had a song in my head in ten years.”

\---- 

Tony could feel the kid’s eyes on him – the sheer magnitude of Peter speaking to him not getting lost in all the mess of translation. His heart thumped incessantly against his ribcage – the sheer force of it making him feel like it might beat right out of his chest. A part of Tony knew – knew that for whatever reason, Peter was put in his path and belonged there. He didn’t quite understand the way he belonged there for a long time. At first, Tony felt like a mentor, like he could share his knowledge with the kid and help make him better than even Tony could hope for himself. Peter was young and impressionable and Tony felt like he could do some good – he had a lot to offer to someone that could keep up with him. Subtly, that feeling started to change.

The more time they spent together, the closer Tony drifted. Peter provided a sort of comfort and excitement that was unnamable and indescribable. Being an almost 40-year-old man feeling butterflies in his stomach for the first time seemed silly, but Tony didn’t think he could name them as anything else. Between his brilliance and ability to pull a laugh from the older man at the drop of a hat, Tony was hooked – and honestly didn’t feel all that bad about it. The realization, thankfully, didn’t come until Peter was almost 18 so Tony didn’t have to feel like he groomed the kid. The natural order of things was slowly starting to work itself out, despite Tony not understanding it completely.

So, Peter’s words weren’t the biggest surprise. Especially after he felt the vibration of the music run through him after he pulled away from Peter. The second the kid’s eyes closed, and he started to feel the music, Tony felt the same sensation – the realization of what that meant something he didn’t want to even think about. What if that wasn’t the case? What if Peter didn’t have a fucking clue what Tony was even talking about? Peter was way too important to the ins and outs of Tony’s everyday life and he would never risk that by making a grand assumption – or scaring the shit out of a young man that could have any person on the planet, regardless of the soulmate situation. But – Peter took the entire ordeal out of his hands and figured it out first. The kid really was much smarter than Tony and not for the first time, he felt so insanely grateful for that fact.

He took a second to collect himself, his entire body so overcome that he felt like he might actually faint right then and there. Only after blinking the little black dots from his eyes did Tony even think to reply – his eyes already watery from the stupidly huge magnitude of emotions smacking him in the face. Waiting 39 years for this moment made it feel monumental – yet, the fact that Peter ended up being the one for him – it all sort of made sense, made all of the pieces finally fit together. For someone that spent his entire life putting shit back together, it took him a long time to add himself to that category. It was worth the wait, though – how could the beautiful man in front of him being anything else?

“I didn’t – I mean, I never thought to ask anyone about it. I didn’t know that was a thing and when I met you, our connection seemed so natural that I didn’t question it. Not even a little bit.” Tony said, his lips and fingers moving while the words spilled from him – his eyes still threatening to drip tears the entire time. “This is happening, right?” Tony’s smile was sheepish, but the question so legitimate. The wait for something like this seemed like forever and it felt a little like too good to be true – but also perfect all at the same time. Peter didn’t bother to answer, the younger man’s arms moved to pull him close, instead – their proximity making Tony feel so fucking weak. The perfection of their closeness made him feel a little crazy and his previous question all of the sudden felt silly. This – the connection between them now that they were pressed together so tightly, it felt right.

“You’re my soulmate, Pete. Holy fuck,” Tony signed quickly before his hands became otherwise occupied. Both of Tony’s calloused palms cupped Peter’s cheeks, his long fingers found their way into the scruff of hair he could reach on the other. Then, only after Peter looked up and their gazes connected – Tony finally closed the distance between them, his lips sealing over the younger man’s in the most perfect first kiss. His eyes slipped closed and for the first time in his entire life, Tony forgot everything but the feeling of Peter pressed against him and the wet heat of their lips slipping against each other’s.

The kiss lasted until they were both pulling away gasping, Tony’s chest heaving from the lack of oxygen. The pressure on his chest reminded him it was real, though – the flush of his cheeks and the hard hit of his heart in his ears kept him level and in the moment. The moment in which Tony finally found the person on the other side of the line. He kept the grip on Peter’s cheeks for another moment, using it to press their lips together another couple of times before pulling back – needing the use of his hands. “I love you, Peter Parker. Something always told me never to give up, and when you came into my life – the something was so loud. I’m so glad it’s you, Pete.” Slowly, he rubbed across his heart, then finger spelt Peter’s name – the older man changing the sign for Peter right there in front of his eyes. “Mine,” Tony mumbled, his free hand holding both of Peter’s tight.

Peter pulled his hands away and Tony looked up, confusion etched into his brow for a moment, then a smile drifted across his lips when Peter caressed his cheek, a small thumb running across his lips teasingly. “I love you too, Tony. My whole life, I’ve loved you.” Peter said the words, his hands occupying themselves in the depth of the hair on the back of Tony’s head – the younger man’s slimness pressing against him ever so slightly. “I’m glad it was you, too.” The last words were spoken against Tony’s lips, the remnants of them stolen by the kiss that followed shortly after.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for tagging along! I'm a speech therapist myself, so I've done a lot of extensive research on ASL, hearing loss, and things associated with it. This little story has been a pet project of mine - so here's hoping I pulled it off! I'm always taking recommendations or plot ideas, so drop a comment if you've got something you'd like to see - or simply want to say hello! 
> 
> Thanks again for reading!


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